


The Masochist and The Martyr

by Tru_tru



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, BDSM, Banter, Blood Kink, Discussions of Faith, M/M, Pre-pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tru_tru/pseuds/Tru_tru
Summary: A couple of years after Dutch and Johnny join the RAC, Johnny meets a monk on a street corner- the attraction is instant, calling him to explore desires he never knew he had. The lines between pain and pleasure blur, and soon the young Killjoy is questioning everything- his allegiance to the RAC, his trust in the Company, and what side- if any-he really wants to be on.
Relationships: Alvis Akari/Johnny Jaqobis, Dutch | Yalena Yardeen & Johnny Jaqobis
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm angry more people aren't writing fic for this good, good show, so I'm writing it myself.

The first time Alvis met Johnny Jaqobis, he was a little drunk.

Johnny was drunk that is; though there existed no hard rule against drinking for Scarbacks, Alvis never much cared for the stuff. It was his job to accept the sins of others, to suffer so that they wouldn’t have to- numbing himself sort of defeated the purpose.

It was midday, and Alvis was standing outside the Royale, giving blessings to those who asked. He was on that street often- it was one of the more active spots in Old Town, and he wanted to be easy to find. Not just for those seeking absolution, but for the members of the rebellion as well.

He was finishing a blessing a young woman and her child when he got the distinct impression he was being watched. As he turned, he saw the Killjoy leaning against the south wall of the Royale with his arms crossed, his head tilted to the side like a curious dog.

“Would you like a blessing my friend?” The Killjoy’s eyes went wide.

“Who, me?” He laughed a little and waved his hand. “No, no, I’m not…I don’t…ya know…” Alvis raised an eyebrow.

“Not what?” The Killjoy was handsome in a curiously impish way. And his eyes, so bright and full of life- something he seldom saw in the weary faces of Westerlyns. He shrugged and looked around for the word like it was a fly circling his head.

“A believer.” He settled on at last. Alvis nodded and stepped forward. He would never admit it but he liked cynics. He liked anyone who questioned tradition, who questioned authority…even if it was his own.

“What do you believe in then?”

“Good tech.” He answered, grinning. “Good hokk. Good people.”

“That’s surprising. I know quite a few among your ranks who don’t think people are good at all.” 

“Well, sure, some people are dicks. And yeah, maybe Killjoys gave to deal with those people more than most, but there’s more to humanity than criminals and lowlifes.” 

“Faith in the human race.” It was Alvis’ turn to smile now- it was a small one, but more than his face usually managed. “One of the noblest beliefs to hold- and one of the most challenging. Maybe you’re more of a believer than you think.

“Yeah well, doesn’t mean I believe in that,” He looked pointedly at the drying blood on the monk’s chest.

“Well…to each their own,” Alvis pulled his hood back up over his head- he knew he needed to leave soon, lest he be tempted to stay here and flirt with the Killjoy all day.

He was turning to go when the man pushed himself off the wall.

“Hey, can I ask…” Alvis looked back. There was that curiosity again; it was downright adorable. 

“Yes?”

“What does it feel like? Doing…what you do.” He looked at the empty space where Alvis had been when he had blessed the woman and her little girl. Alvis considered the question for a moment.

“Have you ever seen rain? Not black rain, but the old kind, just water from the sky.” The other man nodded, so Alvis continued. “That kind of rain…when it’s over, there’s this peace. It doesn’t last long, but for a little while, it’s like everything’s been washed clean, made new.” He shook his head; he often got lost in metaphor. But when he looked up, the Killjoy was smiling like understood perfectly. 

“I guess…it feels like that.”

* * *

The next time they met, the Killjoy knew his name.

“Alvis Akari,” He crowed, smiling as if he’d just won a prize. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Alvis was having lunch at Rusty's, a little hole in the wall diner on the North side of Old Town. The food was terrible but it was cheap, and neither of his occupations left him with a lot of spare Joy to fling around. He looked up from his soup just in time to see the young Killjoy pull out the chair opposite Alvis and sit down as casually as if they were old friends.

Maglen, the establishment's one and only waitress shuffled over. She was a stout old woman who communicated almost entirely with a series of judgemental looks. She raised an eyebrow at the Killjoy and, after a moment, understood that she was asking for his order. 

“Just a beer, if you have it.” Maglen sniffed and shuffled away, retrieving a warm beer from behind the counter and placing it in front of the Killjoy. 

“Much obliged.” He said with a polite nod before turning back to Alvis. “You know I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately.”

“Oh?” He took a sip of his soup. It had been several weeks since the two had crossed paths and while having a Killjoy looking for him was definitely cause for trepidation, it was a little nice to see that smiling face again. “And just what have you been hearing, Killjoy?”

“Please, call me John.” He glanced around, but aside from Mag sweeping up some broken glass in the corner, the two were alone. He leaned forward. “Word around Old Town is that you’re more than meets the eye; that you’re building a following…and not the religious kind.”

Alvis swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Charming or not, Killjoys worked for the Company more often than not. The RAC wasn’t an enemy of the Resistance, exactly, but they certainly weren’t counted as allies.

The Killjoy- John- leaned back in his chair and nodded.

“Of course. Probably just baseless gossip.” He took a swig of his beer, grimacing a little at the taste.

“And what would a RAC agent be doing listening to Old Town gossip in the first place?” John shrugged.

“Professional curiosity. Company’s put out several warrants out on people in the area- folks they think might have information about a local group that’s been giving them some trouble. Stealing Company supplies, trying to organize unions, that sort of thing.” He looked away. “You know, when my friend and I joined up with the RAC, it wasn’t about duty or ideals. We were broke, no real prospects. The RAC had use of our skills and we needed the joy- it was an easy call. We signed away our loyalties, our citizenship, and in return we got steady work and a hells of a lot more freedom than most jobs in the Quad offer.”

He looked back at Alvis, his expression serious for once.

“In the three years since we signed on, I’ve been all over the Quad. I’ve seen how the Company operates, how it treats people…how it treats Westerlyns. It isn’t right. And I certainly wouldn’t blame them for wanting to fight back.”

Alvis put down his bowl. This confession was…unexpected, to say the least, but he wasn’t ready to drop his guard just yet. He appreciated the sentiment if it was genuine…but that was a big if. He didn’t know this man, not really. There was every chance he was being played, and if he was, he wanted it to stop.

“Why are you here, John? What is it exactly that you want from me?” John’s face softened.

“I don’t want anything from you Akari. But the Company is getting its intel from somewhere. If this…‘Resistance’ they’re so worried about does exist, then it’s got a mole. And if they were, hypothetically, being led by one person...I’d say that person better clean house before their cause goes under for good.”

He took another swig of his beer and finding that it had _not_ become any more palatable over the course of their conversation, set it back down on the table.

“Well, I think that’s all my tastebuds can handle for today.” He dropped a few coins on the table and stood. “I’ll see you around Akari.”

And with that he was gone, and Alvis was left with his now cold soup and a suspicion that he wasn’t the only one who was more than met the eye.


	2. Chapter 2

As Lucy brought them into Westerly’s orbit, Johnny tapped out an anxious, arrhythmic beat on the edge of the flight console.

“John- my sensors indicate your blood pressure is slightly elevated- is something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, no Lucy, it’s alright. It’s nothing.”

“I don’t understand John- is it alright, or is it nothing? It cannot be both.” Johnny sighed.

“Don’t worry about it, Lucy,” Dutch said as she walked into the cockpit. “Johnny’s just a little nervous about running into his new Scarback boyfriend.” She plopped down in the chair next to him- he didn’t even have to look at her to know she was smiling in that ‘I-can-read-you-like-a-book-Johnny-Jaqobis’ kind of way.

“He’s not my…look I’ve only ever spoken to the guy twice. Can we just cool it with the teasing? It’s nothing.” Even as he heard the words coming out of his mouth he knew they didn’t sound very convincing. Dutch swiveled her chair around to face him.

“Nothing? Really? Let’s look at the timeline, shall we?” John groaned but Dutch ignored him. “One month ago we dock on Westerly. While I’m getting a new warrant, you go to the Royale. You come back to the ship hours later, piss-drunk. Lucy, do you remember what John said to me right before he passed out on his bed?”

“Yes Dutch. He said, ‘You ever seen a Scarback blood blessing Dutch? Are they supposed to be weirdly erotic?’” John winced- hearing Lucy parrot his own words back to him was odd enough, but he didn’t even remember saying any of that.

Dutch on the other hand just grinned.

“Yes, that was it. Next, a week later you use the RAC database to look up registered Scarbacks in Old Town and find out that the Company is watching the area for potential freedom fighter activity and has reason to suspect one Alvis Akari, aka Alvis the Penitent, a prominent Scarback in the community.”

“Research which, as a member of the RAC, I am allowed to do!”

“Oh the research bit, sure, but we’re not done, are we? Because then, last week after we had collected a damn fine payout on a Level 4 Warrant, you insist that before we go to Leith to spend it we take a detour back to Old Town so you can warn this monk that he is being monitored by the Company, and that you are definitely not allowed to do.”

“At least I told you about it!”

“And you’re lucky I love you and went along with it otherwise Turin would have had you over a gods-damn barrel! Did I forget anything Lucy?”

“Just one thing Dutch; in order to convince you to go along with his plan, John made an impassioned speech on the importance of worker’s rights and the Company’s inhumane policies. When he was finished, you said, ‘Bullshit’, and John replied, ‘Ok, fine, the guy also happens to be really cute, just let me have this one Dutch.’” Dutch laughed.

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks, Luce, I’d nearly forgotten about that.”

"My pleasure." John put his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright- can we be done now?”

“Not until you admit that you have a thing for damsels in distress.”

“What? I do not have a thing---anyway, he’s a guy. Guys can’t be damsels.” It was a weak argument, but it was all he had- Dutch wasn’t having it though.

“He’s pretty, he’s in distress, and you want to rescue him. He’s a damsel.”

“I really do hate you, you know that?” She smirked.

“You wish Jaqobis.” She got up to leave when Lucy piped up.

“Dutch, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we are about to reach the Old Town docking station.”

“Thanks girl. Send a comm to Pree, let him know we’re here and that we come bearing gifts.” Seeing an opportunity to change the subject, John said,

“The Killjoys totally trashed his place after our last meeting- you sure some fancy earrings will be enough of an apology?” 

“Well, maybe not for all of the Killjoys who were there…” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “But I don’t care if Pree forgives them.”

* * *

“Hm…” Pree examined the earrings with a critical eye. It was early in the day and the bar was sparsely populated, but knowing the habits of the drinkers in this town was Pree’s bread and butter- if he was serving, someone was buying. After a few long moments of careful inspection, he asked,

“Are these real gold?” Dutch smiled.

“Of course. You know we’d only get you the best.” A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.

“You do know the way to my heart…” Finally, he snapped the box shut, all pretense of anger gone. “Oh hells, I can never stay mad at you two lunatics anyway.” He poured out a glass of hokk and slid it across the counter to Dutch.

“What, nothing for me? Dutch picked ‘em out but I chipped in too!” Pree laughed and shook his head.

“Oh I’m sure you did sweetheart- but you have other business to attend to.” The bartender leaned in close and said in a low voice, “There’s a rather intense little man waiting for you in one of the rooms upstairs. Paid the hourly rate and everything just for the privacy.”

John blinked in surprise. Was it Alvis? It had to be Alvis right, who else could it be. Dutch, however, was immediately suspicious.

“And just how did he know we’d be here?”

“Oh honey, you should know by now- you two aren’t the only ones who can buy my goodwill. In this case, that goodwill happened to come in the form of letting a certain individual know the next time John came around. But don’t worry mama bird- this guy’s vetted. I wouldn’t put our boy in any danger.”

John opened his mouth to say something- he wasn’t quite sure what it would be- but Pree held up a finger.

“Uh-uh- I’ve done my part. You better get up there- the gentleman paid for an hour but you two took your sweet time getting here, and I’ve got sexers who’ll need that room. Number three, upstairs- now shoo!” 

Johnny looked at Dutch. She was grinning like a madwoman and had probably come to the same conclusion that he had as to who was in that room. She nodded encouragingly, and that was all he needed.

He bounded up the stairs and down the hall, past the first two private rooms. When he reached the door marked #3 he praised for a second to collect himself, then knocked.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and there he was, standing by a curtained window. The fabric was sheer enough to let in some natural light but opaque enough for privacy. He was holding the edge of the curtain in between two fingers like a cigarette, peeking down onto the streets below. He looked worried- did he think he was being watched? Followed? Given what John knew, either were possible.

John shut the door behind him and Alvis looked up. He let the curtain fall from his fingers and stepped away from the window.

“I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure you would go along with,” He gestured to the room around them, “All this.” The room itself was surprisingly spacious- a large bed took up the corner closest to him, while a St. Andrew’s cross stood on the opposing side. Between them was a wall lined with objects that John immediately decided not to examine too closely, lest his imagination distract him from reality.

Alvis’ choice of meeting place made one thing clear- he did not want the two to be seen associating publicly. Johnny had a pretty good guess as to why.

“You were right.” He said, frowning. “About the mole.” Johnny nodded.

“And you want to know if I have more information about the Company’s investigation?”

“No.” Alvis said sharply, almost as if he was offended by the very suggestion. “What I want to know is why a Killjoy has any interest in Company politics in the first place; why you warned me about the mole in the first place when you could have just left it alone.”

Alvis’ gaze was piercing- the last time Johnny had felt this scrutinized was during his RAC agent exams, only this time he found it a little…exhilarating. He had the monk’s full attention now- and he liked it.

He shrugged and tried to look nonchalant

“Can’t a guy just do something nice for a fellow human being?” Alvis’ face was like stone.

“Not in my experience, no.” John balked a little.

“Hang on- one minute you’re praising my ‘faith in humanity’, the next you’re questioning my motives?”

“I never said I _shared_ that faith.”

“Oh, so you’re a hypocrite?”

“No, I’m a realist.” He said. He had yet to raise his voice; even when insulted he kept his composure. “I believe in a higher power, Killjoy, but I know better than to think that faith alone will free Westerly from bondage. I fight for the souls of my people, but that doesn’t release me of the responsibility of fighting for their lives as well.”

“And you assumed that because I’m a Killjoy I wouldn’t want to join that fight?”

“Killjoys take no sides- ‘the warrant is all’, isn’t that what they say?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want the warrant to be all anymore.” John replied as he took a few steps forward. “Maybe I want to believe in something more- to fight for something more.” Alvis shook his head- he stood his ground, even as John advanced toward him.

“I don’t believe you. This isn’t about the cause- this is personal.”

“No, it’s not…” There were only a few inches of space between them now. John’s heart was hammering in his chest, but the monk still looked as stoic as ever. Just what would it take to wipe that dispassionate look off the man’s face? “But it could be.” He concluded, looking pointedly at the monk’s lips. They were nearly the same height; all he would have to do was lean forward.

Alvis’ mouth dropped open a little. He looked so surprised, like the idea that John was _interested_ in him hadn’t even crossed his mind. He asked in a soft, almost pleading tone of voice,

“What do you want from me?”

A dozen responses flashed through his head (most of them filthy), but rather than voice any of them, he simply moved his hand forward and brushed his fingers along the monk’s side where his skin was exposed.

He looked back up at Alvis- his eyes were dilated, and his breathing had become shallow. John moved his hand up, tracing the lines of the monk’s ribcage with his thumb.

Alvis’ eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and he exhaled. John felt the warmth of the man’s breath on his lips. He wanted to catch that breath, to steal it from its source.

At that moment, Alvis’ veneer of tranquility finally cracked. He grabbed John by the shirt collar and yanked him forward into a desperate kiss.

If this was any other situation Johnny would have wanted to take a moment to gloat, but this was not any other situation.

In moments he had the holy man pinned to the wall, his hands roaming greedily across hot, bare skin. Alvis moaned and broke the kiss only to whisper,

“Gods, _yes_. Harder, please.” John tightened his grip on the man’s hips, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh and pulled another blissful moan from Alvis’ throat.

John felt dizzy, and he was getting harder by the second, but suddenly something clicked into place. _What do you want from me?_ John hadn’t really known the answer, because he hadn’t been sure what Alvis himself wanted- now he knew.

The Scarback wanted pain; John wanted to be the one to give it to him.

Just then a knock came from the door and he heard Pree’s voice.

“Time’s up you two.”

As abruptly as he had pulled him in, Alvis now pushed him away. He was strong for a monk- John had to take a couple of steps back just to keep his equilibrium.

For a moment they were both still as stars; each trying to catch his breath, the air around them crackling with electricity. Yet Alvis’ expression was unreadable. He dragged a thumb across the corner of his mouth.

“I still don’t trust you, Killjoy.” His mask had slipped back into place. With that, he was gone.


End file.
